All About Eve
VET ADVENTURES » BY COURTNEY S. DIEHL, DVM
A little filly named Eve
changes the course of
this vet’s family life.
THE SORREL FILLY with the white star
stood dismally along the fence line, her
right front limb pointed and her flanks
drawn. Her pretty head was hanging low,
and a dreadful wound was visible on the
painful limb just above her knee.
It was a deep laceration, a 6-inch wide skin flap that
hung low, exposing a large tear into the muscles of the
leg. It looked to be several days old and was coated
with a horrid material called Magic Violet, a product I
knew and loathed, as it invariably turned everything it
touched a deep, permanent purple. Ranchers liked to
use it for wounds, but as it consisted mainly of rubbing
alcohol and gentian violet, it seemed that its greatest
benefit was its alarming color.
I was heavily pregnant and struggled to
climb through the wire fence to get to the horse.
Mortifyingly, I pitched forward and landed on my
knees, but no one had noticed, so I hauled myself up
and hurried over to the patient.